


beneath the next world

by topazios



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: M/M, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 12:41:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4222071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/topazios/pseuds/topazios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s maybe a little too plain and simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	beneath the next world

+

“Hello,” Hoseok says, forcing a smile onto his face. It’s going to be a long morning anyway, he might as well try not to be an ass. “How can I help you today?” 

“Large iced coffee with three sugars please,” the customer says, handing over his card before Hoseok can even punch all the buttons at the register. 

“Your total is $3.41,” Hoseok says anyway, because it’s protocol, because it’s eight in the morning, because he has four exams this week and hasn’t slept more than five hours in the past three days. He picks up a cup. “Could I get your name?” 

“Kihyun.” He takes his card back, sliding his wallet into his back pocket. “Do you need me to spell that?” 

“No, it’s fine,” Hoseok says, eyes flitting up to Kihyun’s face for a second. “I got it.” 

 

 

+

“Will you two stop staring into each others’ eyes? It’s creeping me out,” Minhyuk says plainly, wrestling the popcorn bowl from an unwilling Jooheon. 

“Did you say something?” Hoseok asks. “I couldn’t hear you because Kihyun exists.” 

“That was disgusting,” Jooheon says, finally giving up and letting Minhyuk have the popcorn. Hoseok throws the remote control at Jooheon’s head, but misses. The remote ends up between the couch cushions and Hyungwon shrugs before sitting on the said cushions. 

“Be nice to the children,” Kihyun says, patting Hoseok on the shoulder and pressing his lips to Hoseok’s temple. “One day they may be choosing our retirement homes.” 

“I’m _older_ than you,” Minhyuk yells, but everyone ignores him as Changkyun destroys Hyunwoo in MarioKart. 

“Ouch,” Hyungwon says. “So Hyunwoo is treating us to dinner tonight?” 

“I need new friends,” Hyunwoo decides, attempting to get up, but Changkyun and Minhyuk each attach themselves to a leg. “Let me go, I’m leaving this place.” 

“This is your apartment,” Jooheon points out, and Hyunwoo gives him a long look of suffering. 

“Dinner’s on us,” Kihyun says. “We put that in the group chat yesterday.” 

“I don’t read the group chat,” Hyungwon says, between chewing the popcorn that Minhyuk has been throwing in his mouth. “I have better things to do, like beat all the Candy Crush levels and tend to my luscious hair.” 

“Correction,” Hoseok says. “Dinner for everyone but Hyungwon will be on us.” Hyungwon sticks his tongue out at him, but he knows that Hoseok’s kidding, probably. 

“Why are you two forking over cash?” Jooheon asks suspiciously. “I thought you guys were saving up for something?” 

“We were,” Kihyun says. “We have an announcement.” 

Minhyuk drops the controller, allowing Changkyun to win yet again. “Oh my god,” he says. “Oh my god. I call being the maid of honor, or whoever gets to plan the wedding. I don’t care if I have to wear a dress. I will wear a dress if I have to. I must plan the wedding. No one else. Me. It has to be me. I’m the wedding planner.” 

“We’re not getting married,” Hoseok says, and Minhyuk deflates like a balloon. The effect is ridiculously comical. 

“Then what?” Hyunwoo asks, taking over Minhyuk’s job of throwing popcorn into Hyungwon’s mouth. The accuracy between all of them is quite amazing. 

“We’re moving in together,” Kihyun says, and Minhyuk shrieks so loudly that Hyunwoo throws a cushion at him, muttering something about cranky neighbors and how he’s going to be evicted if this continues, but Hoseok only sees Kihyun, only Kihyun, even after everything, when Kihyun isn’t with him anymore.

 

 

+

“Do you think you’ve met your soulmate already?” Hoseok asks a disinterested Minhyuk. “Like, what if your soul mate was the person who you accidentally spilled coffee on, but you just said sorry and nothing else? What if your soul mate was the person you yelled at in the grocery store for taking the last box of mac and cheese? What if—”

“Will you shut up if I pay you money,” Minhyuk grouches, and Hoseok fixes him with a wounded look, which Minhyuk ignores. He then wrestles the leash to Hoseok’s puppy out of his hands. 

“That’s _my_ puppy,” Hoseok complains, as Minhyuk reaches into Hoseok’s pocket to take a dog treat. “I pay for the puppy. I do everything for the puppy. My puppy. My angel puppy. My baby puppy. Puppy.” 

“Your mouth is moving and noises are coming out but I’m not listening,” Minhyuk says, feeding Junie, _Hoseok’s_ puppy, the dog treat that _Hoseok_ bought with his _own money_. 

“Wait, you have to hold her leash tightly at all times, if you don’t, she’ll, dammit Minhyuk.” Junie runs across the park, thankfully, and not the street, but she barks at passing dogs, who mostly regard her with a cool disinterest. Junie is a very small toy poodle. She is not very scary. 

“Shit, sorry,” Minhyuk says, turning to Hoseok with his own puppy eyes. 

Hoseok waves him away. “If you catch her all will be forgiven.” Minhyuk takes off as Hoseok watches Junie start barking at a dog, a samoyed, that they pass by on their walks often. Hoseok had never spoken to the owner, but the guy walking the samoyed currently is definitely not him. 

Minhyuk almost has her, the leash that’s dragging on the ground flies away from Minhyuk’s hand at the last second, but Junie crashes into the samoyed that she had been barking at, their leashes tangling together, and this is a disaster. That guy is going to hate Hoseok even though Hoseok’s dog is obviously the cutest. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Minhyuk is saying as Hoseok approaches them. “I was walking my friend’s dog for the first time and I didn’t know that you were supposed to _hold the leash tightly at all times_ —”

“It’s fine,” the guy says good-naturedly, picking up his samoyed. Hoseok starts trying to untangle the leashes. 

“This isn’t your dog, right?” Hoseok asks. “I see him a lot but with a different guy walking him.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s my friend Kihyun,” the guy says. “He’s out of town for the weekend so I’m dog sitting for him. I’m Hyungwon, by the way.” 

“I’m Minhyuk,” Minhyuk pipes up. “And this is Hoseok.” 

“And this is Junie,” Hoseok says. Junie looks up when she hears her name. “She’s still pretty young and I got her about two months ago so, you know, still training.” 

“Kihyun has had Mochi for a year and he’s still training him,” Hyungwon says, and they all laugh. “It never ends.” 

“I’ve been meaning to take Junie to a class,” Hoseok says. “Maybe if I see Kihyun walking Mochi sometime soon I’ll mention it to him?” 

“Kihyun thinks Mochi is untrainable,” Hyungwon says seriously. “And he feeds Mochi all the time. Mochi is the fattest samoyed I’ve ever seen, honestly.” 

“I think Mochi’s pretty cute,” Hoseok says, as Minhyuk picks up Junie. “I mean, not as cute as Junie, obviously.” 

“Kihyun will fight you if you say that to him,” Hyungwon warns, but Hoseok just laughs. 

“He sounds interesting,” Hoseok says, the corners of his lips curved up. “I’m expecting a lot from him now. I hope he delivers.” 

 

 

+

“You dropped your phone,” someone says, and Hoseok turns to see a boy about his age, holding out his brand new iPhone, his _baby_. 

“Oh,” Hoseok says. “Oh my god. Thank you so much.” 

“Yeah, it seemed like it would kind of be a big deal if you lost it,” the boy says, stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, not bothering to hold onto anything even though the subway is barreling its way on top of the rails. 

“It would have been,” Hoseok says, trying to wipe the screen with his sleeve but managing only to smudge it more. “This cost me like, an arm and a leg. I waited in line for its release.” 

“Hm,” the boy says. “That’s a bit too intense for me. I’m definitely more of a droid person.” 

“Ugh, get out,” Hoseok scoffs. “Why is there even a debate over iPhone vs. Android?” 

The boy laughs. “I’d love to discuss the fine details of iPhone vs. Android with you, but this is my stop. And my class starts in,” he checks his phone, his ugly Android phone, “ten minutes. So you know.” 

“Oh, um,” Hoseok says, “thanks again.” The boy waves as he gets off, and Hoseok hesitates before calling after him, “What’s your name?” 

“Kihyun,” he answers, as he’s getting swept away by the morning crowd, “Yoo Kihyun.” 

Thirty minutes later, when Hoseok makes it to his lab barely on time, his backpack heavy, full of things for his afternoon classes, he pulls out his phone—the _superior_ iPhone—and searches Yoo Kihyun on Facebook, sends a friend request. 

 

 

+

Minhyuk finds Hoseok outside, sitting on the stairs leading up to his apartment, drenched because, of course, it’s pouring out. 

“Hey,” Minhyuk says, a hand trying to keep the rain off of his face. Hoseok looks up, managing a smile. In his hand is a ring, the diamond sparkling even though the sun hasn’t come up yet. “So.” 

“Yeah,” Hoseok says. “Yeah.” 

“It’s going to be okay,” Minhyuk says, sitting down next to Hoseok. “It’s going to be, god, it’s going to be okay.” He pulls at his hair. “You’re going to get through this. We’re going to get through this. Shit, we’re going to. We—”

“I get it,” Hoseok says, even though he feels so, so empty inside, as if Kihyun had taken a part of Hoseok with him when he left, even though in reality Kihyun hadn’t taken anything from their apartment. Not yet, at least.

“Shit,” Minhyuk says. “You guys were perfect, you guys were going to get _married_ —”

“Thanks,” Hoseok says sarcastically, because the thing he needs right now is obviously a reminder. “I almost forgot. You know, because we only dated for five years and got engaged. No big deal.” 

“I’m a terrible friend,” Minhyuk says, wrapping his arms around Hoseok even though Hoseok is actually soaked to the skin, his clothes sticking to his body to the point where it’s uncomfortable, but the last place Hoseok wants to go right now is back inside. All of Kihyun’s things are still there, all of his favorite cups and candles and the sheet set that they had picked out together right after co-signing the lease to their first (and last) apartment, a year and a half ago.

“No, you’re not,” Hoseok says. “Thanks for, you know. Coming to see me. I really needed to see… someone. Most people are sleeping at four in the morning on a weekday. Very few people are willing to answer their phone at that time, and even fewer are willing to get out of bed to see their miserable friend who just got his engagement broken off.” 

“I just,” Minhyuk says, voice small. “I just wish I could do something.” He sniffles, and then he’s crying, even though Hoseok hasn’t even had a chance to shed a tear yet. Maybe he has, and it got all mixed up with the rain. 

“Being here is enough,” Hoseok says, and they sit there for another forty five minutes, Minhyuk alternating between crying and sniffling. But even though the ring is heavy in Hoseok’s hand, he can’t cry. The only thing he can think about is how Kihyun never cried in front of Hoseok, not ever. And now he never will.

 

 

+

Hoseok wakes up one Saturday morning in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, and when he peeks under the covers, he can see that he’s wearing actually nothing. He can’t say that this is the first time that something like this has happened, but he still doesn’t know what to do when it does. 

“You’re awake,” someone says, and Hoseok realizes that that there’s someone sitting at the desk next to the bed, textbook perched on one leg and both hands typing away at his laptop. “You sleep like a rock.” 

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Hoseok says, pulling a sheet over his head because it is really fucking bright in the room. “What time is it?” 

“Almost two in the afternoon,” the guy says cheerfully. 

Hoseok almost shoots out of bed before he remembers that he’s naked. “Two? In the afternoon? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

The guy shrugs. “You looked so peaceful.” 

Hoseok can’t remember his name. Fuck. What did he do last night? Minhyuk had dragged him to that party and convinced him to take a couple of shots. Was that it? No, then there was that guy who was walking around with a bong who always seemed to know when someone had a moment to take a hit. Hoseok had taken a lot of hits. Fuck, what was the guy’s name? 

“Before you give yourself an aneurysm trying to remember my name, let me tell you that I looked for an ID in your wallet to figure yours out.” 

“Oh my god, thank god,” Hoseok says all in one breath. “Wait, where’s my wallet? Also what’s your name?” 

“In your jeans pocket, on the floor. And Kihyun.” 

“Kihyun,” Hoseok says. “Well, Kihyun, I probably had a really good time last night because I don’t remember anything.” 

“I know,” Kihyun says, the corners of his mouth curving up slightly. “You had a great time before you started throwing up in the bushes outside. I didn’t want you to be like, run over accidentally on the streets so I brought you back here. Also because I didn’t know who any of your friends were.” 

“Wait,” Hoseok says. “We didn’t hook up?” 

Kihyun blinks. “No,” he says. “You started taking your clothes off automatically when I tried to get you into bed, and you were singing to yourself so I kind of just, you know, let you do your thing. And then you started snoring.” 

“Oh my god,” Hoseok says. “Oh my god, I am so sorry.” 

“It’s all good,” Kihyun says, turning his head to frown at his laptop screen before reaching over and picking up his glasses. “You should probably check your phone though. There were a lot of notifications before I turned it on silent.” 

“I want to crawl into a hole and die,” Hoseok mutters, burying his face into a pillow. 

“Just a heads up, my boyfriend is dropping by soon, so if you don’t want to be naked for that, I’d get dressed.” 

Hoseok leans over the bed and reaches for his boxers before asking, “Who’s your boyfriend?”

“His name’s Hyunwoo, I don’t know if you’d know him.” 

“Yeah, I have no idea,” Hoseok admits. “Good for you though. Thanks for not leaving me to die last night.” 

“No problem,” Kihyun says, offering a smile, and Hoseok would be lying if he said that he didn’t think about that smile every day for months after that. 

 

 

+

“I can’t do it. I can’t room with him,” Hoseok groans. Hyungwon and Minhyuk don’t respond, their faces pixelated over the three-way video chat. “Does anyone here care that I’m going to die? In my first apartment ever?”

“You’re not going to die,” Hyungwon says, obviously looking at something else on his laptop screen. “I lived with him for the past three years, you’ll be fine. I promise.”

“You said he was a good roommate,” Hoseok accuses. “You said that he was nice. You said that he was a good cook.”

“Well, is he all those things?”

“...Yes,” Hoseok admits. “But. He labels his food. He labels. His food.”

Minhyuk shrugs. “So?”

“He labels his food!” Hoseok repeats. “Labels it! Each little container! Every single one!”

“You’re going to be fine,” Hyungwon says. “As long as you know how to make ramen noodles, he’ll probably like you.”

“No I won’t! Why isn’t anyone worried about—” Hoseok hears keys jangling outside. “Shit, shit, he’s home. Fuck, I’m hanging up, fuck you two, I’m coming back to haunt the two of you after I die.” Hyungwon hangs up first. Typical.

“Hey,” Kihyun says, putting his shoes on his immaculate shoe rack. Hoseok’s shoes are still on the floor. “You’re home early. How was your day?”

“Oh you know,” Hoseok says. “My last class got canceled, so I spent another half an hour crying at the library about the exam I failed this morning. Also some girl spilled coffee on me and then said, ‘hey, aren’t you the guy from my nutrition class?’, and I was like, ‘who are you,” and she was like, ‘we sit next to each other every day,’ so I can’t ever go back to my nutrition class ever again. Which I might as well not because I failed that exam. Also last night I had a dream about avocados.” 

“Oh,” Kihyun says, looking taken aback. “That is a lot more words than you usually say.” 

“And I applied for a job,” Hoseok continues. “To be a barista because you know. Broke as fuck. One of the questions was, ‘Why do you want to work here’, and I was like, ‘Uh, because my life is in shambles’.” 

By this time, Kihyun is at the refrigerator, taking out a container of leftover pasta labeled with his name written on a piece of masking tape. He puts it in the microwave to warm it up. “So are you saying that it’s a order wings kind of night, or a crying with ice cream kind of night?”

“I was thinking pizza,” Hoseok says, peering into the fridge himself. There are only tupperware containers, all labeled with Kihyun’s name. “I have no food.” 

“The tomato in the corner over there is yours.” 

“Thanks,” Hoseok says sarcastically, but a very tired sarcastic. It’s been a long day. He doesn’t even know what day of the week it is. 

“You know what?” Kihyun says. “Let’s do shots. We still have alcohol from last weekend, and it’s not like we’re going to throw another party anytime soon.” 

“I slept through the last party. I went in my room after an hour to change my shirt because fucking Hyungwon and his terrible balance but then I fell asleep accidentally.” 

“I know. I realized right before I called the police to report a missing person.” Kihyun pulls out a handle from the fridge. “Do you think that taking shots is a good idea right now?” 

Hoseok checks his watch. “At five forty five in the afternoon? Hell yeah.” 

An hour later, Hoseok is so drunk that he can’t even stand up. He hasn’t been this drunk since Halloween weekend freshman year of college. The legendary weekend during which he slept with multiple people. 

“So,” Kihyun says, or slurs. Hoseok can’t tell. “How are you doing? Seems like we’re doing,” he hiccups, “great.” 

“Great,” Hoseok repeats, trying to stand up again and falling right on Kihyun, who had been sitting on the couch next to him. When he looks up, Kihyun’s face is right next to his, but they’re both too drunk to move away from each other. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Kihyun says back. “You’re heavy.” 

“Meanie,” Hoseok says, resting his forehead on Kihyun’s cheek. “I go to the gym every day. Except today. Also I didn’t go all last week.” 

Kihyun shifts so it’s a little more comfortable for Hoseok. “I’m sleepy.” 

“Me too,” Hoseok says, reflexively snuggling into Kihyun’s side. “Me too.” 

They stay like that for the rest of the night, Kihyun’s arm around Hoseok’s waist and Hoseok’s head tucked under Kihyun’s chin. Hoseok wakes up first, groggy and hungover, at five in the morning. He would untangle himself except Kihyun looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, completely unlike Kihyun after he wakes up usually, already stressed and tired. Hoseok reaches over and pulls the extra blanket that they keep on the couch over them.

 

 

+

“What if you only get one shot at this soulmate thing?” Hoseok says, as Kihyun curls into his side, head pillowed by Hoseok’s arm. “Just one shot?” 

“Are you still talking about that,” Kihyun murmurs, voice thick and heavy with sleep. “I thought Minhyuk beat it out of you last night.” 

“No like,” Hoseok continues, “what if you meet your soulmate but in some alternate reality there’s a better version of the two of you, and that’s your one chance? What about all the other realities?” 

Kihyun lifts his head slightly and squints at Hoseok. “Are you still high?” 

“Maybe,” Hoseok admits. “My head is kinda… weird. You know?” 

“I know,” Kihyun says, shifting slightly. Then he says, “I’d still like you though.” 

“What?” 

Kihyun doesn’t look right at him, but he says, “Even if we weren’t like, soulmates. Or if we already got our chance. I’d still like you.”

“And want to touch my butt?” Hoseok presses. 

Kihyun laughs, patting Hoseok’s cheek with his free hand. “And want to touch your butt.” 

 

 

+

“Did you finish that essay for Intro Lit?” Hyungwon asks, running a hand through his tangled hair. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days. Hoseok would ask, but he’d rather not know.

“Kinda? I mean, there are enough words on the pages, so I’m just going to turn it in,” Minhyuk says, and Hoseok just shrugs when Hyungwon looks at him. 

“I’m thinking of turning in an essay that has ‘butts’ written literally four thousand times,” Jooheon says conversationally, dropping his bag on the floor before sliding into the chair across from Hyungwon. 

“You wouldn’t even have to write it four thousand times,” Hoseok says. “Because there’s your name, your professor’s name, the assignment name, and date. Also your title, which I assume would simply be ‘Butts’.” 

“Simple, yet classy,” Jooheon says, taking out his laptop. “But honestly, I wrote four thousand words of bullshit, I might as well delete it and turn in the butts essay.” 

“Wait, you have the butts essay all ready to go?” Hyungwon asks, trying to catch a glimpse of Jooheon’s laptop screen. 

“What, you don’t?” Jooheon asks, as Minhyuk starts trying to convince him to distribute it to the group, because sharing is caring, and also because it's finals week and Hoseok is pretty sure there’s more caffeine in his bloodstream than actual blood, if that’s even possible. 

“Take the Intro Lit class, they said. It would be fun, they said. It would be easy, they said,” Minhyuk mutters. 

“Bullshit, I said,” Jooheon says, and they high five like they’re not about to flunk out of college. Hoseok doesn’t know where kids these days get their energy. He himself is feeling the nine p.m. bedtime and five a.m. wake up time. Everyone else goes to sleep at five a.m. and doesn’t get up until past noon. 

“Why do you keep looking around?” Minhyuk asks, and it takes Hoseok a couple of seconds to realize that the question is directed at him. 

“What?” 

“You’re always looking around for something. Or someone,” Minhyuk explains. 

“Please inform us of any potential crushes,” Hyungwon says. “We don’t actually care, but we need some distraction. Please and thanks.” 

“Shut up,” Hoseok says, logging into his university email account and deleting all the emails that he doesn’t care about. “I’m not looking for anyone.” 

“Last night, he finished off the half a bottle of wine left and cried about being single forever,” Minhyuk informs the group. 

“Wait,” Jooheon says. “You drank half a bottle of wine during the middle of finals week?” 

“I had finals at the beginning and I have finals at the end,” Hoseok sniffs. Minhyuk is the worst roommate. “Don’t be so quick to judge. I’m the one with the best GPA here.” 

“That GPA don’t matter when you’re climbing up my ladder,” Jooheon raps, and Hyungwon imitates the sound of a crowd screaming. Hoseok is so glad that this floor of the library is not a quiet floor, because no matter what, they’re always loud. 

“Yeah, whatever, see you in ten years and we’ll see who turned out better,” Hoseok maintains, pulling out his notes and making the font on his screen bigger so he won’t strain his eyes while taking notes. 

“Um, it would be me,” Jooheon says. “Because obviously you’re going to be forever alone.” 

“Well, at least I’ll be rich,” Hoseok says. 

“And you can buy all the bottles of wine,” Minhyuk says cheerfully. “Can I still be your roommate when you’re rich and famous, although unloved?” 

“No,” Hoseok says, but he still lets Minhyuk eat half of his veggie wrap, because Minhyuk requires endless calories and he hasn’t been eating that much lately due to studying all the time. Finals week takes a lot out of some people. 

“We’ll still love you,” Hyungwon says, patting Hoseok on the shoulder, and Hoseok makes a face at him. Inwardly, he’s trying to smile, even though he can’t stop thinking about how hard it is to find that person. It shouldn’t be this hard, but Hoseok really believes that there’s no one out there for him, that his other half doesn’t exist, plain and simple. Maybe a little too plain and simple. 

 

 

\+ 

“Do you think that someone put the stars where they are?” Kihyun asks. They’re lying on their backs on a blanket so thin that Hoseok can feel the sharp blades of grass again his skin, looking up at the night sky. 

“Maybe someone did,” Hoseok says, turning his head so he’s looking at Kihyun instead. “Doesn’t make me feel safer about anything though.” 

“I’m just saying, come to church with me _once_ —”

“No,” Hoseok says. “We’re not… not this again. We’re not having this conversation again.” 

Kihyun sits up, and when he leans forward slightly, Hoseok can see his spine through his shirt. He traces it up to Kihyun’s neck, but Kihyun doesn’t move. 

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok says finally. “I’m sorry that I snapped at you. I didn’t mean it.” 

“I know,” Kihyun says, sighing, his shoulders releasing tension visibly. Hoseok sits up too, putting an arm around Kihyun’s waist, hand resting on the top of his leg. “I just thought that it would be easier, you know? Just… easier.” 

“Everything sucks,” Hoseok translates, and Kihyun pushes his face away, but he’s smiling, like he does when he thinks Hoseok is sleeping and covers him with a blanket, like he does when Hoseok accidentally trips over nothing and stares in utter confusion at the ground. “Sorry I make everything harder.” 

“You mean, sorry you’re a stubborn jackass who doesn’t listen to anyone, ever,” Kihyun corrects. 

“Nah, I’m not really sorry about that,” Hoseok says resting his face against Kihyun’s neck. 

“I know,” Kihyun says. “It was worth a shot.” 

Hoseok knows that they’re not going to last, but they try, they try so hard. They try until they can’t.

 

 

+

“It’s your own fault, you lost the bet,” Jooheon says, leaning back in his seat, smirking. Hoseok thinks about slapping it off his face. “Now go.” 

“One day, I’m going to be rich and famous and you’re going to be sad because I won’t invite you to any of my parties,” Hoseok huffs, as Hyungwon pats him on the shoulder. 

“Nah,” Minhyuk says, reaching over and finishing off Hoseok’s drink. Hoseok looks sadly at the empty glass. “Do you mind if I sneak over there and take a video? Great stuff to show at a wedding, don’t you think?” 

“I’m not getting married,” Hoseok protests, but he knows that there’s no stopping Minhyuk. 

“You’ve stalled long enough,” Hyungwon says, nudging Hoseok out of the booth. “Now go.” 

Hoseok gulps before walking over to the bar, dodging the people standing near it. This is going to end terribly, and they’re all going to get kicked out, he can feel it. 

“Can I get you anything?” the bartender asks, and okay it was Hoseok’s fault for offhandedly mentioning to Jooheon that he was cute, but all Hoseok did was tell the truth. 

“Um,” Hoseok says, screwing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath. “I’ve gotten plastic surgery recently.” 

The bartender pauses, his hand still on the mixer he had been using. “What?” 

“Yes,” Hoseok says, mentally flicking Jooheon’s forehead. “I got plastic surgery so my eyes can only see you.” 

“I—”

“So my ears can only hear your voice, so my hands can only feel you.” Hoseok nervously glances up at the bartender’s face. He’s trying not to laugh, one hand over his mouth. 

“Beautiful,” he says, pouring something into a glass with ice. “Jameson on the rocks, right?” 

“You remember?” Hoseok’s kind of surprised; the guy must be making a lot of drinks. 

“I always remember,” he says, passing it over. “Your friend is taking a video, by the way.” He waves away Hoseok’s wallet. “On the house.” 

“They aren’t my friends, friends don’t let friends crash and burn,” Hoseok says bitterly, but he knows he’s going to steal Minhyuk’s phone later and watch the video. 

“Thanks for the entertainment,” the bartender says, using a towel to clean up the already clean counter surface. “It gets pretty repetitive, working here.” 

“Do you work here every night?” Hoseok asks, and he really hopes that Minhyuk is still filming because he wants to see all of this again later. 

“Usually not this early,” he says. “I normally work the later shift.” He glances over at Minhyuk. “So did you lose a bet?” 

“A while ago,” Hoseok sighs, “but they couldn’t come up with anything to make me do so they’ve been saving it.” 

“Well, I’m honored,” he says. “Am I supposed to give you my phone number now?” 

“Um,” Hoseok says intelligently. “That would probably… help.”

He picks up a sharpie from somewhere under the counter and leans over slightly to write the numbers on Hoseok’s arm. Hoseok hates the smell of sharpie, but right now it doesn’t make his nose sting so much. 

“There,” he says. “I expect a call tomorrow. Not between 10 to 2 though, I have class.” 

“Can I have a name to save this under?” Hoseok asks, feeling kind of bold. Maybe it’s the alcohol. 

“Kihyun,” he says. “And now you can go rub it in your friends’ faces.” 

“Hoseok,” Hoseok says. “And yeah, I’m gonna go do that now.” When he gets back to the booth, all three of them immediately pounce on him and scrutinize the digits written on Hoseok’s arm. 

“Do you think this is fake?” Minhyuk asks, squinting at the sharpie marks. “This might be fake.” 

“I hope not,” Hoseok says, forcibly yanking his arm back. “I hope not.” 

 

 

+

“One more run-through,” Hyunwoo says, even though they’re all on the floor of the practice room, panting and covered in sweat. “One more complete run-through and we can go home. Our schedule’s clear tomorrow so we can sleep in.” 

“No one is going to sleep in,” Hoseok says, between pants. His bangs are sticking to his face from sweat. “We have to re-record parts of the album tomorrow afternoon and that’s literally going to be hell.” 

“I don’t have all my parts memorized,” Minhyuk says, after downing a bottle of water. “Our first stage is in two weeks, and I don’t have my parts memorized.”

“You’re going to have everything memorized by then,” Kihyun assures him. “Everything is going to be fine.” 

When Kihyun had first joined Starship, it was years after Hoseok had joined. Hoseok was the one who knew all the ropes, but Kihyun was the one who got them together, bonding with everyone separately, and then as a group. Kihyun was the one who said to Hoseok, said to Minhyuk, said to so many, “Let’s make this happen. Let’s make this happen together.” And years later, they’re still in the same practice room, but they made it happen, and they made it happen together. 

“It’s so weird having more than, you know, three seconds of a song,” Hoseok says. “Not that you would know.” 

Kihyun tries his hit him with his towel, but Hoseok dodges it easily, even though his limbs are dead tired. They do this all the time, try to get on each others’ nerves on purpose, but it never works. They can’t even take each other seriously. It’s too hard to break out of the comfortable wavelength they’ve settled into together, result of all the years staying in the practice room past four in the morning, sometimes sleeping on yoga mats if they were too tired to get back to the dorms. 

Despite everything, they never do anything more than sleep in the same bed once, and that had been when Kihyun had been half asleep, climbing into the wrong bed after showering. Hoseok had just gotten in, and he couldn’t figure out what was going on when Kihyun pushed him over and climbed in. Hoseok let him hog the blankets, because Kihyun’s body heat was enough to keep the both of them warm. Hoseok couldn’t sleep that night, and eventually he carefully climbed over Kihyun’s body and went to Kihyun’s bed to get at least an hour or two of good sleep. 

It’s too much to expect that anything would ever happen between him and Kihyun. That’s not how it works. That’s not how the two of them work. It doesn’t have anything to do with their occupations or their interests, their families or the amount of money in their savings accounts. It has everything to do with the gentle beat of Kihyun’s heart that Hoseok can feel even when they hold hands briefly, whether it be to bow at the end of a performance, or because they’re onstage waiting for the announcement of the place their title song got for that week. Everything to do with how Kihyun always looks for Hoseok when he’s not immediately there, and how Hoseok does the same. 

It’s too much to expect anything from Kihyun when Hoseok has already taken so much, throughout the years when Hoseok’s selfishness got the better of him. But it’s worth it, Hoseok thinks, because, after all, he gets to be one of the people who get to stand next to Kihyun, one of the people that Kihyun comes to for advice, for reassurance, or even for entertainment. He gets to be one of those people. One of Kihyun’s people. 

 

 

+

“So,” Kihyun says, holding an empty mug between his hands. There was coffee in it earlier when Hoseok first got out of the shower, towel around his shoulders and bangs sticking to his forehead. “This is it?” 

Hoseok lets air rush out of him. He hadn’t realized that he had been holding his breath. “This is it.” 

“I can help you find a roommate,” Kihyun says evenly, like they hadn’t just decided to break up. “I know some people who are looking for a place, and this apartment has two bedrooms.” 

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, gripping the kitchen counter for support. “Yeah, that’d be great. It’s so hard to pay rent in this economy, you know?” 

“I know,” Kihyun says, cracking a smile. “You said that when I moved in.” 

“Feels like a long time ago, doesn’t it?” Hoseok says. Kihyun had moved in more than a year ago, and they had dated for two years before that. “Time flies.” 

“I can stay with a friend for the time being,” Kihyun is saying. “It’ll probably take me maybe two or three days to move all my stuff out.” 

“Yeah, take your time,” Hoseok says. “I know you’re really slow at packing.” 

Kihyun glances at the kitchen clock before setting his mug down. “I gotta run,” he says. “It’s almost nine and I can’t be late. Just leave all my dishes, it’s my day to do them.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hoseok says, trying to smile. “Only people who live here are allowed to do dishes. Guests are not allowed to do chores.” 

Kihyun looks like he’s about to say something, but just shrugs on his jacket before picking up his briefcase and sliding his keys into his pocket. When he’s just about out the door, Hoseok blurts out, “I love you.” 

Kihyun doesn’t turn around, but Hoseok can picture his face. It’s like they’re in college again, when Kihyun accidentally walked into Hoseok while giving a campus tour, apologizing profusely and insisting on buying him coffee. 

“I love you too,” Kihyun says, still without turning around, and Hoseok closes his eyes, pretends not to hear his voice break. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t work it out.” 

“I know,” Hoseok says. “Me too. I’m sorry too.” 

Kihyun leaves, the door clicking shut behind him, and Hoseok picks up the mug Kihyun left behind at the table, tossing it between hands for a couple seconds before hurling it at the door, watching it shatter. Hoseok picks up the shards, ignoring the small trickles of blood running down his hands to his wrists. 

 

 

+

Hoseok picks up a hitchhiker for the first time in his life on the way back from a camping trip. He had originally gone with Minhyuk, but he had left earlier for a prior engagement, and Hoseok had stayed to clean up the campsite before packing up his car. 

“Where do you need to go?” Hoseok asks through the rolled down window. The boy doesn’t look that old, probably not older than Hoseok himself, and looks relatively harmless. There’s dirt on his skin and in his hair, his shoes are frayed, and his cheeks are hollow from malnourishment. 

“Just to the nearest town,” the boy says. “Please?” 

Hoseok unlocks his doors. “You hungry? You look like you’ve had a rough… week, or month, or so.” 

“Water would be nice,” he admits. “I’m Kihyun, by the way. You don’t have to give me your name if you don’t want to.” 

“Hoseok,” Hoseok says anyway. “There’s bottles of water in the bag next to your foot. And probably some food if you want some.” 

“I don’t want to be too much of a burden,” Kihyun says uncertainly, but Hoseok glares him down. Kihyun tentatively opens a package of beef jerky and chews on that slowly. 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Hoseok says, after a minute or so of silence, “are you okay?” 

“I’m, you know, hanging in there,” Kihyun mumbles. He looks so exhausted. Hoseok wishes that they weren’t strangers so he could cover Kihyun with a blanket and tell him to sleep without worrying, that everything would be fine. “It could be better.” 

“Is there anything more I can do to help?” Hoseok asks, but Kihyun shakes his head. 

“Driving me to the next town already makes you an angel,” Kihyun says, drawing a smile out of Hoseok. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.” 

“You can’t be that old,” Hoseok says. 

“How old are you?” 

“Twenty two.” 

“We’re the same age,” Kihyun says, trying to sound cheerful, but Hoseok catches the bitter edge to his tone. “Now you can’t baby me.” 

“Who said that?” Hoseok asks, as the lights of the nearest town start to show in the dim evening. “I’m the driver, which means I’m responsible for every person in the car.” 

Kihyun glances into the backseat. “Did you go camping by yourself? You know that’s not safe, right?” 

“I went with a friend but he had to leave early,” Hoseok says, as he pulls into a gas station. “I need gas, but I can drop you off wherever you need in town.” 

“Here is fine,” Kihyun says. “Thank you so much.” He makes to get out of the car, but Hoseok hesitates. 

“Wait,” Hoseok says, “do you have a phone?” 

Kihyun blinks. “Why?” 

“Just, I wanted to give you my number, in case you ever, I don’t know, got yourself into trouble.” 

Kihyun smiles, and Hoseok just barely stops himself from reaching out and touching Kihyun’s cheek, no matter how dirty, with his hand. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Kihyun says, unlocking the door and getting out, waving before disappearing into the convenience store next to the gas station. Hoseok takes his time filling his tank, but Kihyun doesn’t come back out. As Hoseok is driving away, he catches a glimpse in his rearview mirror of Kihyun pushing open the door to the convenience store, laughing at something that a boy next to him said. 

 

 

+

It’s in the middle of the night that Minhyuk’s scream wakes Hoseok up. This happens often because Minhyuk has chronic nightmares and it’s Hoseok’s job as the boyfriend to calm him down. But Minhyuk can’t be having a nightmare because Hoseok is having a nightmare—and they’re both awake and everything is on fire. 

“Fuck,” Minhyuk chokes out, holding a shirt to his mouth and putting an arm around Hoseok, who pulls the collar of his shirt up to stop himself from accidentally inhaling too much smoke. They live on the fifth floor of the apartment complex, only halfway up. Minhyuk pushes the door to the bedroom open and they somehow make it to the staircase outside of their apartment. 

They’re almost there, almost to the exit when suddenly Hoseok can’t move his legs anymore, he can’t see, everything’s going black. Minhyuk is yelling his name, but Hoseok can’t do it, he’s floating. He’s really floating. Actually. Someone’s picked him up and thrown him over their shoulder, and Minhyuk’s still holding his hand, yelling at him, but everything is muted. Hoseok can’t open his eyes. 

He gets placed on a stretcher, at least that’s what Hoseok assumes, and then there are people surrounding him, things put on his face and Minhyuk is still squeezing his hand so hard. 

“He’s going to be okay,” someone says, and Minhyuk starts crying. Hoseok wants to tell him that it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay because they’re together, they can figure it out. 

They spend the rest of the night outside because while Hoseok regains consciousness, the nurses don’t let him leave to go anywhere else to make sure he doesn’t collapse again. Minhyuk stays next to him and Hoseok puts an arm around him, rubbing circles with his hand on Minhyuk’s arm. 

For hours, the firefighters carry casualties out of the building, laying them down on the ground in a row to be placed in body bags. Minhyuk turns around, his head on Hoseok’s shoulder. On one of the bodies, the firefighter suit is evident even though it's burned and charred away at places. His face is very pale, streaked with ash. 

“That’s the one who saved you,” Minhyuk says, voice small. He’s sniffling. “I yelled for someone to help and he came right away. He said, ‘my name’s Kihyun, is it okay if I pick up your friend here? He doesn’t look so good’.” He hiccups, and Hoseok rubs his back. “He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder like you were a doll. And all I did was cry.” 

“He saved me?” Hoseok asks, as Minhyuk rests his face against Hoseok’s neck. “I wish I could tell him thank you.” 

“Me too,” Minhyuk says. “I do too.” 

 

 

+

Hoseok wakes up thirty minutes past his alarm and immediately suppresses screams of terror as he throws on clothes at random and picks up his backpack, praying that everything he needs is in it. He trips over a pillow on the ground and hits his head on the side of his door, which is slightly opened. His keys mysteriously disappear, and Hoseok spends half a minute pondering to himself if this was really worth it before starting to frantically rummage through all of his belongings. Of course, the keys are in the pocket of his jacket, which is hanging by the door, like it is every day. He really doesn’t have time, but he still stops by the campus café on his way to his second class, because his first class is almost over. 

“Hello,” the boy at the register says. Hoseok is the only customer there. Everyone else is not a failure and is in class. “How can I help you today?” 

“Could I get a large iced tea, sweetened?” Hoseok runs a hand through his hair and checks all of his pockets before finding the one with his wallet. 

“That will be $2.16,” the register boy says, and Hoseok tries to hand him his debit card, except everything is going wrong and his fingers fumble, dropping the card. 

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” Hoseok says as the boy picks up the card and swipes it. 

“Rough morning?” 

“The worst,” Hoseok groans, and the boy smiles at him as he hands Hoseok his receipt and card. 

“Hope your day gets better,” he calls, and Hoseok waves with his free hand, taking a sip of his iced tea. It’s too sweet, but Hoseok still drinks it all anyway. Maybe he’ll go back after his classes to see if that boy is still working. Probably not, but it might be worth a shot. 

 

 

++

“Hoseok, check your goddamn phone, it keeps going off and I cannot pipette correctly if it keeps startling me,” Hyungwon says crossly. Hoseok just manages to stop himself from sticking his tongue out at Hyungwon before pulling off his gloves and picking his phone up from the lab counter. A message bubble from Kihyun pops up on the screen. 

_Are you here to nag me about my Android_ , it reads, and Hoseok laughs before typing back, _Maybe, but only if you let me buy you coffee for saving my phone. My iPhone. The better phone. The best phone._

_Fine_ , Kihyun messages back. _But if I win the debate then you have to get an Android for your next phone._

_end._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_epilogue_

Hoseok looks sadly at his new Nexus phone as Kihyun walks in the room. “Are you happy now,” he grouches, but he complies when Kihyun leans down to kiss him.

“Very,” Kihyun says, joining Hoseok on the couch. “So very happy.” 

“I’d be happier if I had an iPhone,” Hoseok says but Kihyun only laughs and wraps his arms around Hoseok. 

“That’s a lie,” Kihyun says. “If you won the debate, you wouldn’t have me,” 

“You act like the debate was our relationship. Just the debate,” Hoseok complains as Kihyun pulls out his own phone. “Wait. Wait, why do you have an iPhone? Kihyun? What have you done?” 

Kihyun shrugs. “I decided to try out the phone you wouldn’t shut up about.” 

Hoseok lets out a noise of agony and Kihyun pats him on the head before texting Minhyuk something about physics and honeybees. Kihyun and Minhyuk talk about weird fucking stuff. Hoseok does not want to get involved. 

“How could you do this to me,” Hoseok moans. “I gave up my iPhone, my _baby_ , and you go and just casually get an iPhone? How dare you.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Kihyun says, but he turns his head to kiss Hoseok’s forehead. “It’s for your own good. You Apple fanatics need to learn that enough is enough.” 

“I’m not talking to you anymore,” Hoseok says stubbornly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Hey,” Kihyun says, and when Hoseok looks at him, he smiles. “I love you.” Hoseok turns his face away, sticking to his refusal of holding conversation with a traitor. “I love you,” Kihyun says again. “I love you, love you, love you.” He tickles Hoseok, which is _unfair_ because Hoseok is ticklish. Very ticklish. He squeaks a couple times before Kihyun stops, having pinned Hoseok’s wrists down.

“Okay,” Hoseok mutters. “Fine.” 

“Say it,” Kihyun says. Hoseok clamps his mouth shut. “You have to say it.” Hoseok shakes his head. “ _Say it_.” 

Hoseok takes a deep breath and holds it. Kihyun raises an eyebrow as Hoseok runs out of breath and starts gasping for air. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll say it,” Hoseok says, looking for all of the possible exits in the room. There’s one window and one door, but Kihyun has him pinned down firmly. For such a small person Kihyun has a lot of fight in him. “You win. I lose. Kihyun wins. Hoseok loses.” 

Kihyun let his wrists go and smiles sunnily at him. “Now that wasn’t so bad, wasn’t it?” 

“Oh my god, shut up. I’m hungry, let’s go get food.” 

But Hoseok still slips his hand into Kihyun’s, because well, it’s Kihyun. Because it was always Kihyun, it was always going to be Kihyun, because choosing Kihyun is the easiest thing in the world. In the right world.

**Author's Note:**

> [inspired by](goo.gl/1LWyGm).


End file.
